Intervention
by Jakeroo
Summary: A mysterious man appears and vanishes from the life of a suicidal girl.


A single tear fell on the piece of paper, smearing the ink so delicately written there. Abigail Diamond brushed the next tear aside before it could fall and signed her name at the bottom of the note. She crooked the piece of paper up on her desk and glanced over it for the final time.

Dear Mum,

If you're reading this, I'm gone. I'm no longer with you.

Don't be sad. Sadness is what ended me. But I'm in a better place now.

Life was just too hard. Too difficult. You can go on about how I am depressed, how I just need medication or pills or diagnosis, but, in the end, it's just me. It's just life. And I'm ending mine.

I've seen the world, and I don't care for it much.

Don't mourn me. Live your life and be happy. I love you.

Abby.

Abby angled the paper on her desk, in plain sight of the door. Her right hand trembling, she wrapped her fingers around the cold handle of the knife as she picked it up off her bed. She traced the flat end of the blade with her index finger.

Swallowing down the lob in her throat, she raised the knife to her breast. She gently pressed the tip against her sternum—not enough to puncture, just enough to feel the chill spread across her chest.

Her father's death. The crushing depression.

It would all be over now. She raised her chin and readied herself to stab.

Raising her eyes to the heavens, she saw a glint of a piece of paper hanging on the ceiling. A post-it note, her mother's scribbled handwriting. _I love you_.

Abby paused.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, whooshing louder, as if it was right next to her ear. And then it grew, overwhelming, louder and twisting into something more than just wind, something more alien. Abby stared in shock as the dark recesses of her bedroom swirled and flashed, her note spinning around in a sudden gust, and, fading into existence around her, appeared a machine.

Blue-and-red target-like shapes lined the walls of the circular room, flashing with miniature lights. Complex circles spun at the centre of the ceiling, like wings on a helicopter. The whole structure glowed with a greenish and bluish light, shining on the consoles that surrounded the sides and the middle of the room.

Abby's hand slipped open of its own accord, letting the knife slip. She jumped back as it hit the ground with a loud clatter, staring down at it.

"Hello?"

Abby's head shot up as a man emerged from behind the centre console. Tall, with rugged brown hair and a flashy, almost Victorian suit, he raised his barely visible eyebrows as he stepped toward her. In a single movement, he whipped something out of his inside jacket pocket, pointing it at her, and she leapt back, her back hitting something behind her—

But it wasn't a gun, just a long, pencil-like object, its tip humming and glowing with green light. The man flicked it upwards and stared at it, his eyes flashing between him and her. He took another step towards her as she shrunk back into whatever it was behind her, fear clogging her throat.

The man lowered the device and looked at her. "Who are you, how did you get here?" he demanded.

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Clearing her throat, she managed to squeak out, "You appeared in my bedroom."

"I did?" The suspicion vanished from his voice and he spun around, bounding over to the central console again. He pulled the screen hanging above it over and stared at the circles flashing across it. "Oh, no, why did you do that?" he groaned to the machine. He turned back around and smiled at Abby. "Sorry about that. I was trying to get to the Third Moon of Namaak in the Betelgeuse System. Not sure how I ended up here…" He frowned and waved it aside.

"Where… where am I?" Abby asked, her hands protectively curling into fists at her side. "Where am I and what have you done to me?"

"Oh, you're in the TARDIS," the man said, smiling. "I'm the Doctor by the way, what's your name?"

She gulped. "Abby. Abby Diamond."

"Nice to meet you Abby Diamond," he said, walking over, hand outstretched. She lunged down, snatching up the knife, and pointed it at him. The Doctor jumped back, hands up. "Look, I'm unarmed. I'm not here to harm you."

"How—" Her voice trembled. "How did I get here?"

"I told you," he said, clapping his hands together. "I was trying to get to Namaak."

"I…" She tried to wrap her head around his words. "I… I live in Sussex."

The Doctor laughed. "I was close. Only seven hundred light years off." As she lowered the knife to her side, he glanced at it. "What are you doing with a knife, anyways?"

She looked at the gleaming silver blade for a moment. "Oh. Um…"

Before she could respond, a deep thrum rung through the room, echoing off the walls, and the whole TARDIS began to shake, spinning around. Abby was flung forwards and the Doctor leapt towards her, catching her before she hit the ground. They tottered to the side, grabbing on to the railings as the room trembled and twirled. One last, giant jolt sent them flying into the central console. Abby yelped as the console hit her rib, sending pain shooting up her torso. It took her a moment to realise the machine had stopped.

Abby pushed herself off the console and stood up, staring at the Doctor. "What was that?" she demanded. "An earthquake?"

He laughed and slid over to the doors, smiling at Abby. "Earthquake? More like… spacequake." He flung the doors open.

Abby stared.

Space.

Huge, beautiful, with sparkling stars and dark shining moons spinning around vast planets. The TARDIS hung above an enormous green-and-blue mass, with wisps of white clouds streaking across it: the Earth.

"Abby Diamond, welcome to Outer Space."

She dropped the knife again.

"The TARDIS, this room," the Doctor said gently, stepping towards her—and, this time, she didn't back away. "It's a spaceship. We're hanging above the Planet Earth right now, in geostationary orbit."

"A…" She tore her eyes away from the doors and looked into his sparkling green eyes. "A spaceship?" she repeated weakly.

He grinned. "A spaceship."

A tear rolled down her cheek, again—the hugeness, the beauty of it all was overwhelming. She stumbled, her head suddenly fuzzy, nausea rising up in her. The Doctor grabbed on to her, holding her upright. "It's okay," he whispered. He took her hand and wrapped it around the railing. "Hold on, I'm taking you home."

After he eased her back into her bedroom, he closed the door of the blue box behind him and vanished, disappearing from her life as quickly as he had come into it. The wind from the ship blew around her room, papers and books whirling around in the maelstrom. She reached out and caught a single piece of notebook paper—her note—as the gusts faded away.

She unfolded the paper.

I've seen the world, and I don't care for it much.

She stared at the words, written just minutes ago, but it could have been another language to her: they felt unfamiliar, wrong.

She ripped the note apart and let the pieces fall.


End file.
